


Big dick fail, big dick win, big dick Nick

by Liffis



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Gay Chicken, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Strap-ons, SUCCESSFUL gay chicken, complaining about dicks, despite a lot of talking about dicks: there are no actual dicks, no actual dicks, no dicks were harmed in the making of this fic, talking about dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 07:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liffis/pseuds/Liffis
Summary: Tom complains about men with big dicks. Ovi agrees.Or: Nicke's honour as BDN (Big Dick Nick) is insulted by the way everyone is shit-talking big dicks.





	Big dick fail, big dick win, big dick Nick

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, my name is Liffis and I am a sinbin lurker, and yes, i also filled this. It was too good to pass up. Kink meme prompts are LIFE, ok.  
> Considering the prompt, this is...rather tame, because here you will find zero dicks. IKR. But a lot of dick discussions. Sometimes the dick just needs to be talked out, ya feel.
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I'm firmly fanon'ing both Tom Wilson and Aleksandr Ovechkin as bottoms. Because of reasons.

„- and they all think you’re gonna come as soon as you sit on their dick, it’s ridiculous!”, is what Sasha hears when he’s managed to get back to their table, balancing some shot glasses and a beer in his hands.

And, what.

What.

Why are the really juicy topics always brought up when he’s busy peeing or getting something to drink? He wants to hear this. He’s captain. He *should* hear this!

So he squeezes himself into the booth and listens to Willy. Who is, apparently, on a roll and not to be stopped.

“And when they’re done they’re done! And just expect me to – what, get off? If I wanna jerk off I’m gonna do that at home and not –“, he hiccuped, “- on some asshole’s cock, what the fuck, at least my vibrator doesn’t stop like that.”

As if to emphasize his speech, he emptied his beer.

Sasha elbowed Nicke, next to him, because of course he’d slip in next to Nicke. There were facts and there was Nicke and he always, always, always was close to Nicke. Because of reasons. Obvious ones. Uh.

“What is topic?”

The way Nicke scratched off the label of his beer bottle told Sasha a lot of things, even before the actual answer came.

“Apparently Willy is having bad sex.”

From the other side of the table, a loud groan answered that claim.

“It’s not bad sex – it’s bad sex because men with big dicks thing they’re the shit when they’re actually the worst lovers I’ve ever had the – the –“ – “- misfortune”, Burky supported him, “- yes, thanks, Burky, misfortune”, Tom emphasized, “- misfortune of ever getting fucked by!”

Sasha stilled.

And emptied the first of his shots. Willy complaining about his love life definitely merited drinking shots.

“Had many?”

“Yes!”, Willy almost yelled and slammed his hands down, “And all of them were horrible, egoistical jerks!”

“Maybe you were just unlucky.”, Nicke said, his voice carefully neutral.

There was something very, very off about that. Going by the faint flush on his face and neck – and the time of the night -, Nicke should be tipsy, at least. And a tipsy Nicke was never ever neutral, ever. Full stop. Sasha had never seen that. Sober Nicke? Yes. Nicke facing the media? Also yes. That meant a neutral Nicke, with a void voice keeping all emotions out.

He nudged over a shot – and if he had any doubts about how Nicke could feel: the way how Nicke immediately slammed the shot down nulled that one.

“’s not bad luck”, Tom groaned, “They’re just bad lovers. Or have you seen guys with big dicks who were good at sex?”

For a beat, no one said anything. Most of them probably because they haven’t gotten fucked by men so far, so Sasha saw it as his duty to step in, because he had and –

“No, haven’t, I agree with you.”

Next to him, Nicke inhaled. Sharply.

And for a coincidence, Sasha did know that Nicke’s dick…well. 

He leaned forward.

“You right, Willy.”

Willy just sighed, heavily, and looked at him with sad eyes.

“But why? Ovi, this is not fair, they have great dicks, why do they have to be so *bad* at using them?”

He gently shoved a shot towards him.

“We need to get fucked by men with better dicks.”

“Strap-ons?”, Braden interrupted, and Willy looked up, still defeated.

“But that doesn’t feel like a real one.”

Holts just very carefully looked at his beer.

“That *really* depends on how good they’re with it.”

And wasn’t there – there WAS. Sasha almost crowed.

“Tell! You know!”

The blush in Holts’ face deepened.

“I won’t tell. But yes. And it was very good. Maybe you need to –“, he paused, “- expand your. Horizons.”, and with that, he emptied his beer and stood up, presumably both to get himself something another one and to get out of this situation.

So Tom just thunked his head down on the table again.

“I will die fucked either by small dicks or desperately un-orgasmed on big dicks, this is horrible; Ovi, how did you survive this so far??”

Well. He could offer an explanation, but he’d rather gnaw off one of his arms than admit that he’s survived so far by fucking himself basically raw on dildos while getting off to the thought of giving the very same treatment to his best friend’s dick. And considering he’d very much like to keep Nicke as said best friend, not a single word of that is ever going to leave him, ever. 

“We going to find good dick in life. Maybe not biggest, but good dick. One with orgasms for everyone involved.”

Willy just sighed deeply and sadly.

“Is it really this bad?”, Nicke hissed next to him.

Sasha leaned back, looking at him: Nicke was tipsy, quite apparently, but his eyes were as focused as if he were sober. Only from years of knowing him could Sasha pinpoint the signs of drunkenness: a flush, some strands sticking to Nicke’s skin due to sweat, and – there was something about Nicke. Less tension, maybe, shoulders lowered just a tiny bit and in general looking less like he was about to go and get shot. 

Sasha had a lot of words for that, most of them in Russian, and usually he’d rather not look at any of those too closely. Better to just silently lust away after dick, because dick, he could fuck out of his system with dildos and whatnot. But – this? No. No, better not think too much about it.

“Worse”, he finally answered, “I had…some. With…”, he gestured at his own crotch, trying to get ‘big dicks’ across without actually saying it, because talking about dicks with Nicke? As a private topic and without any joking involved? Yeah, no.

“…and all of them were…boring. They just trust that we come on their dick. And they think we just hole for them to come. Bad sex.”, he shakes his head and downs another shot, because he can. And because Nicke is looking at him as if he’s trying to pry Sasha’s jerk-off material straight from his brain and that’s terrifying, because Sasha has gotten himself off too often on the thought of Nicke’s dick and that’s dangerous, so much, fuck.

“And what? All men with big dicks are bad lovers?”, Nicke asks, incredulous.

Sasha’s heart is close to accidentally just hopping out of his throat, mouth, right into Nicke’s beer. Or lap. Anyways it’d be out and visible and that is bad, because of Nicke.

So he just nods. For some reason he doesn’t think Nicke meant him, because his own dick is…Sasha knows he isn’t small, but fuck it, they were talking about big dicks doing the fucking, so fuck off.

“Lies.”, Nicke hisses and wraps a hand around a shot glass so tightly Sasha expects the glass to crackle under the grip. It doesn’t.

“Well.”, he says, bites the inside of his cheek and then decides to, well, literally fuck off everything.

And looks up, directly in Nicke’s eyes.

His heart now tries to actively jolt out of him, but he successfully manages to swallow it down, where it belongs. At least roughly.

“Yes, I think that.”, he says, emphatically, and steals the shot glass from Nicke’s grip, emptying it while keeping Nicke’s gaze.

For a second, Nicke looks both outraged and thrilled, and Sasha really wants to get his mouth on him, so much.

“Not true. Want the proof?”, Nicke finally, finally, finally asks, hand slipping on Sasha’s thigh.

Sasha almost swallows his tongue with how much he nods.

Nicke grins, a sharp one, and it sends a hot thrill through Sasha, settling low in his belly.

*

Next day is optional skating. Sasha would’ve skipped it, if he didn’t have anything to prove.

But as it was, he very much had something to prove, so he packs his stuff and goes.

“So remember talk yesterday? We were wrong. So wrong.”, he tells Willy, as soon as he bursts in.

And when he takes off his hoodie, proudly displaying the blotched hickeys, the wolf-whistling starts.

Next to him, Nicke just grins.


End file.
